


white noise

by thatgothlibrarian



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Voyeurism, short sweet and to the point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 13:51:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17561621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatgothlibrarian/pseuds/thatgothlibrarian
Summary: He was so tired of fighting. He couldn’t let himself have Damen, but he could let himself have this, just this once.It would be so easy to walk across the room to Damen. It would be so easy to give in. Laurent wanted to surrender so badly.But Damen would leave.And he had to beat his uncle or die trying.





	white noise

**Author's Note:**

> Hi folks! This is very short, and it turned from something far kinkier in my head to angst fuel. I wanted to explore the idea of surrender, and so, I use the color white to help with that, and all its associated meanings.  
> Also no trans!Laurent because I am still figuring out how to do canon trans even though I did an alternate canon trans!Damen one time. But this one directly references the plot instead of just being set in the future where we don't have to think about it. Shrug.

It was the night before they were due to leave to Breteau. The discussions with Lord Touars had been tedious and exhausting. The talks had dragged on and on, and Laurent felt like his time had been wasted, even though he eventually won them two or three days.

Laurent hated nothing more than his time being wasted. Every second that his time was being wasted by incompetent, pompous fools, his uncle was figuring out how to get two steps ahead of him.

And Laurent could not afford that.

He set out to retire for the night, instructing Damen to unlace his clothing.

“Attend me.” At some point, those words had been said with far less venom. At some point, Damen had stopped looking so angry.

Although his time had been wasted, it gave him more of this.

This, whatever this was that was developing between them. Laurent did not know when the repulsion of having Damen this close turned into comfort. He did not know when the feeling of Damen’s fingers at his wrists turned illicit, making his traitorous pulse quicken just below the skin so much that he was sure Damen would notice.

He did not know. And he was terrified.

Here was Damianos, _prince-killer_ , who had taken Auguste from him, who had started this entire mess, who robbed his childhood from him and allowed his uncle…

“That’s enough,” Laurent swallowed, “I can finish on my own.” Laurent felt stifled, restricted, his stark blue clothing too tight.

Damen nodded and went to ready himself for bed before moving to his slave pallet while Laurent headed to the baths. He lay there in the warmth, trying to let his mind empty, but he kept thinking of what his uncle could be planning, of Lord Touars and the council, of how this could never possibly end and if it did it would be with his death, surely. How tired and weary he was.

Laurent just wanted the fighting to end. 

Eventually, he left the embrace of the water and headed back to his rooms. Laurent saw that Damen was already asleep. He could not understand how, even in sleep, Damen exuded strength and physicality; how anyone could possibly mistake him for anything less than a king was beyond Laurent.

Laurent noticed how Damen’s black curls fell into his eyes, and turned away as quickly as he could.

As he lay in bed staring at the white canopy, Laurent thought of those curls, and what they would feel like in his fingers, as he drifted off into unconsciousness.

 

Laurent felt himself waking up, but he noticed that it was dark in the room when his eyes cracked open. It must be before dawn, he thought, and allowed himself to sink back into his dreamless sleep.

Except, that before he went under, Laurent heard a soft rustling in the room. It was rhythmic, and it was paired with soft, heavy breathing.

He opened his eyes in the darkness, facing the side of the room where Damen slept. As Laurent’s eyes adjusted, barely allowing him to see anything in the room but enough to know where furniture was, where Damen was, he saw that Damen was on his back on the pallet.

And then Laurent realized what the rustling noise was.

Although he could barely see, Laurent could tell that Damen was touching himself under his covers. Damen’s head was thrown back into his pillow, his mouth slightly open, and his hand was moving rhythmically under the blankets. Laurent could hear the sound of skin moving over skin, slowly but with purpose.

Laurent felt dizzy. He had seen Damianos nude, had seen him aroused, had seen him come. Laurent knew how Damen’s face looked at climax. He remembered the sounds he had made. He remembered what Damen liked. And he remembered how Damen had looked at him, during. _Oh god, did he remember._ _He remembered so vividly he thought he might die of it._

Damen’s legs widened ever so slightly, and Laurent saw them flexing against the blankets as Damen’s hips bucked shallowly. The muscles in Damen’s arms flexed as his hand moved quicker. Laurent could see how hard Damen was straining to hold back.

Laurent felt his own body reacting, all the blood in his body going straight to his cock. He rolled, as quiet as he could with the protection of the blackness enveloping the room, so that he was facedown on the bed, but his head still turned to see Damen.

He was so tired of fighting. He couldn’t let himself have Damen, but he could let himself have this, just this once.

Laurent flexed, the movement minute, so that his length pressed against the bed sheets. He felt sick, sickened by his own reaction and sickened by how good it felt and sickened by how he imagined Damen’s hand around him and sickened by how he wanted to wake Damen and feel his strong body push him facedown into the mattress, just like this. Laurent felt the heat pooling in his belly as he saw how Damen’s hand was moving even faster.

Damen quietly moved his hand to his mouth to stifle a gasp, biting down on the meat of his palm.

Laurent bit the soft white pillow under his face and dug his nails into his palm, imagining they were Damen’s teeth. He thought of how it would feel to have Damen’s lips pressing against the nape of his neck, dragging down his spine, biting into his shoulder as he lost himself. Damen would take him, mount him, fuck him like one of his slaves, like one of Halvik’s women. Damen would be rough, all-encompassing, consuming Laurent’s body until Laurent couldn’t think, until Laurent wasn’t Laurent anymore, ceasing to exist only to be reborn as Damen spilled into him.

Then, so softly Laurent thought he imagined it, Damen bit out Laurent’s name against his palm, his body jerking with release.

Laurent felt his mind shattering. His arousal left his body in an instant. He realized, suddenly, that a single tear was rolling down his face.

It would be so easy to walk across the room to Damen. It would be so easy to give in. Laurent wanted to surrender so badly.

But Damen would leave.

And he had to beat his uncle or die trying.

Laurent could never have this. He could never again hear his name leave Damen’s lips like that. He couldn’t even let himself _think_ it. He had an iron self-discipline, but even he had his limits.

Damen was a distraction. And Laurent would tell himself that however many times it took to keep himself under control. He had never felt more out of control in his entire life.

Damen’s breathing slowed until Laurent could tell he was asleep. Laurent knew he himself would be wide awake through the dawn.

And so he lay there, rolled away from Damen, staring out the window as the golden sun rose.

 

~~~

 

Damen had won him Ravenel. Damen had helped him win a victory against his uncle.

Without fail, again and again, whenever he needed him, Damen was there. But for the last time, for Damen would be leaving in the morning.

Inside of Laurent, a violent battle waged. This was his last chance. Damen was still his slave, and it would be so easy for Laurent to take what was his, if he wanted. And he wanted, so badly.

But more than anything, Laurent wanted Damen to show him that he was nothing but a mindless brute, that Laurent would be just another fuck, that it would be mindless and heartless because he had no frame of reference for the alternative except for books, and those were fiction. Even though Damen had shown how gentle he could be, Laurent refused to believe Damen would do anything but fuck him.

Because thinking anything else was suicide.

Laurent’s mind was made after he had fed Damen, Damen taking the morsel between his teeth and their gaze never breaking, and Damen requested _The Conquest of Arsaces_ from Erasmus. As his sweet voice filled the hall, whatever strength and restraint Laurent had finally left him. He remembered how his name sounded when Damen uttered it in ecstasy.

_I wonder if he dreams of surrender_

_On a bed of white flowers_

And that night, Laurent did more than dream of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all can find me on tumblr @thatgothlibrarian, and feel free to message for my Discord! I'm also in the CaPri discord so you can hit me up there.


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